


the world is quiet out here

by the_ruined_earth_sagelord



Category: Bartimaeus - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ruined_earth_sagelord/pseuds/the_ruined_earth_sagelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompts for the Bartimaeus series</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quiet Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This was a drabble i posted for a prompt just now at on tumblr, and i've always loved this series so i was glad i got to write it!! i don't even know how big the bartimaeus fandom is, but here's me shouting into the void with this fluff lmao :')
> 
> Tumblr prompt: "Don't you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!"
> 
> aka, Bart and Nat are together in the quiet of the night, and that is enough

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit! Bartimaeus! Attend to me!”

     The dark-skinned boy’s heavy eyes turned to Nathaniel, a fiery light in them. I resisted the urge to tip my master over, which was especially hard since he was wearing a ridiculously puffed up jacket that made his arms stick out like a snowman’s if he didn’t wrap them tight around his torso. Which he was doing now. He looked like a giant, orange marshmallow. An  _imp_  wouldn’t have had a hard time bullying this kid, but right now I simply didn’t have the energy to berate my master, so I skipped across the icy sidewalk like a good little servant should and sidled up next to him, my form changing to that of a ferret, quick and lithe on the ground. I scampered up his leg and side to sit on his shoulder, taking satisfaction in the fact that he shuddered at the strange sensation of the small critter’s claws against him.

     “You called, Nath-”

     “ _John_ , Bartimaeus, it’s  _John_  out here, you sniveling little rodent,” the magician muttered under his breath. His face was flushed, and a dribble of frozen snot hung attractively from the end of his red nose. He looked very cold. I thought nothing of it.

     “Why did you throw that snowball, Bartimaeus?” the boy demanded, trying to draw himself upright as tall and proud-looking as he could. He even stamped his foot, bless him. “I specifically ordered you  _not to.”_

     The ferret inspected one of its tiny nails. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was just some snow falling from that roof we passed under. I had nothing to do with that.”

     My master’s eyes narrowed. “That was five blocks ago… You mean that was-”

     “Whoops, did  _I_ say that? No, no, that must have been some street urchin. Or some foliot from an enemy magician that wanted to see you get trounced by a snow bank.”

     The boy’s poofy orange shoulders drooped. “I’m only worth a foliot..?”

     I glanced at him. “What, you  _want_  something more powerful coming after you? You know they could send a marid, or an afrit, if they wanted to. They could send a djinn, but then, you’ve already got the best one in your services, so why bother with any others, am I right?”

     Nathaniel glared at me, and his mouth was buried under his muffler, but I could tell he was trying not to laugh. My little ferret mouth grinned.

     He breathed into his hands, his breath like small dragon puffs of smoke. He rubbed his palms together. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked. “Being a spirit of fire and all that?”

     I shrugged my tiny shoulders. “I’m drawing some warmth from your unnecessarily large jacket. Good conductor of body heat, this thing.”

     He looked down at it disapprovingly. “Yes… Ms. Whitwell got it for me. Said it was all the rage west of the Thames.”

     “I’m sure it is. Plenty of people over there have burned less ugly pieces of clothing to get a little heat in their chimneys, right?”

     He laughed at that, outright at last, and it was clear and ringing in the crisp air. I marveled at the fact that it was the first time I’d heard him laugh all week. I shook my small, fuzzy head. “You should get out more,” I advised. “Some more time outside and you’ll finally be acting like a normal person and not a stuffy recluse.”

     His cheeks reddened even more than their already cold flush. “I’m not a recluse,” he murmured into the muffler. “I’m just-”

     “Busy,” I answered for him. I’d heard it already. The ferret leapt off its master’s shoulder and landed as a small boy, his thin frame out of place in the frigid air, his ancient garb out of place in the modern city under several meters of snow. I held out my hand. “We can go home, if you want,” I offered. The dark-skinned boy’s voice was neutral, timeless. Careful.

     My master receded into his muffler and jacket slightly, his face awash with a red glow. “Okay,” he squeaked.

     He didn’t comment on the word “we.” He normally did. But just then, the streets were empty, and we were alone, and neither of us had to pretend at anything. He was the master; I was the servant. How thrilling it was, then, to be the one who suggested we go home. To be the one, the only one, he listened to.

     There, in that cold and lonely street, where we both just as cold and lonely, neither of us had to pretend. He was able to take my hand, and I could send him some warmth through my essence, and we could walk home.

     Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these boys have been the death of me since grade school bless them TToTT
> 
> p.s. if you've read my hq!! work on this account, you'll probably realize that i enjoy ending my stories with "Together" because my ships deserve to be together :')


	2. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of prompts for the Bartimaeus series

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's for Bart and Kitty :')
> 
> tumblr prompt "Wanna dance?"

 “Wanna dance?”

     Kitty glanced up through the eyeholes of her mask. A young man stood before her, cutting a trim silhouette in the evening glow. Tall and thin, he was bent at the waist, hand extended. Below his mask, his mouth was quirked in a solemn, polite grimace, like he was only smiling because etiquette required it.

     Kitty looked around. The Commoner’s Ball was full of wealthy ex-government and commoners alike, mingling for the first time in decades, maybe centuries. Her friends in the new government order tittered happily at the refreshments table, gossiping with each other, their faces red and shining in the glamour of the evening.

     The man waited, his hand steady and patient. Kitty peered into the holes of his mask, but the angle was unfavorable, and she couldn’t catch a glimpse of the man’s eyes. It was simply a strange, lizard mask that gazed down at her.

     Kitty took the man’s hand and stood from her chair, adjusting the feathered edge of her own owl mask. She paused for a moment, letting her breath catch up with her. She still found it hard to move quickly sometimes. The man waited, patient as before. Then they swept into the dance floor, hands clasped firmly together.

     They positioned themselves in the middle of the room. Men and women twirled and galavanted around them, dresses sweeping long and wide, coattails cutting through the air handsomely. Kitty took the man’s hand, and he her waist, and they began their dance.

     Kitty didn’t pay much attention to her movements. She allowed the stranger to lead. The music swelled in the room, violas and cellos and soft, soft harps. The man moved like a panther, feline and terrible, lightning cutting through the dance floor. Kitty was there simply as his partner. No, his puppet. She couldn’t control the fire in his step, the storm in his ire. And there was ire. She could feel it in every coiled muscle as he twisted and dipped her, twirled her around him. He was angry. At what, she hadn’t the faintest idea.

     The music dipped and slowed, and the man finally calmed, his movements becoming languid and easy.

     And then he spoke.

     “You miss him, don’t you?”

     Kitty froze, and the room shattered around her, and she was in the swirling fires of that night, buildings collapsing and people screaming, and they had their back turned to her, their promise etched into her skin as they flew into the maelstrom of the dark. She looked up into the man’s mask, and there was something familiar about the shock of dark hair, the cut of the jaw. But the eyes were still covered in shadow, empty.

     “Nathaniel,” she whispered.

     She pulled away from him, his arms still reaching out for her, and she fumbled to take her mask off. She ripped it from her face, her eyes wild and scared.

     The man reached up-how could she not have recognized that hand-and pulled the mask from his face.

     For a moment, Kitty didn’t hear the music, didn’t breathe. He was staring at her, his dark eyes cutting into hers. She remembered those eyes so well. How they’d hunted her, how they’d haunted her dreams, how they’d looked at her that night ten years ago. How they’d loved her.

     She reached for his face, her hands trembling.

     “Nathaniel,” she said again. She could barely hear her own voice.

     He took her hand. It should have been warm, alive. Instead it was burning, otherworldly.

     And he was crying.

     “No, love,” the djinni whispered, in the voice Kitty still heard in her nightmares, in her dreams, in her waking thoughts. The ancient voice that had hovered over the sands of the pyramids, flowed through the rivers of mountains, stormed into battle after battle after battle.

     “Bartimaeus,” Kitty said, and something in her shifted, collapsed.

     She smiled up at him, her face wet with tears.

     “It’s been too long, you silly thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one hurt...


	3. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of prompts for the Bartimaeus series

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some nice fluffy fluff
> 
> tumblr prompt "“Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

 

 

 

“Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

     Nathaniel frowned. “What are you going on about, idiot?”

     The succubus smiled, her cheeks dimpling pleasantly. She batted her eyelashes, long and luscious. “Don’t you want me to pleasure you, master?” She winked.

     Nathaniel balked. “That’s vile. Please stop. And change out of that…that  _form_. It’s indecent.”

     The succubus vanished, and a repulsive gargoyle took its place. It leered at Nathaniel. “Oh, you’re no fun, Nat.”

     Nathaniel frowned, crossing his arms. His ears flushed red, and he tried to hide his embarrassed frown behind his hand. “I’m plenty of fun. You’re just a lewd twat.”

     Bartimaeus grinned at that, the gray skin of his gargoyle form creasing and wrinkling. His back eyes sparkled mischievously. “That makes two of us, Natty boy. That makes two.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bart get away from nat omg


End file.
